Sylvan Weyr

[Lyfling]

The air was brisk but with a promise of rebirth, not the crisp chill of winter. Rukbat was just beginning to peek her face over the horizon and the sounds of a stirring Weyr reached the young woman's ears. The soft hush of her skirts over the grass combined with the normal sounds of nature brought a soft smile to the pretty features as she pulled her shawl tighter across her shoulders. A basket hung from the crook of her elbow and it was already half full with herbs only one familiar with the craft would be able to identify. Her steps were unhurried and slow, pausing here and there to inspect a certain species of flora or fauna. Some she would carefully snatch and place in her basket, while others were simply admired for their beauty. Her destination, if the garden was where she had intended to end, was on the edge of the Healers' plot and set in a corner half in and half out of the sunlight. Several varieties of plants were growing; a few were ready to be harvested while others were barely showing their first leaves. Placing the basket on the ground, Eslie got down on her hands and knees and began to work away at the plants she needed.

The dirt fell good beneath her fingers, cool and smooth compared to the prickly weeds and rough stones. There had been rain the day before and the moist soil clung to her fingers, burrowing deep beneath her nails and into her cuticles. A few of the herbs were pulled completely from the ground and replaced by a seed, while others simply lost a stalk or three. She was careful never to take too much; it was a basic lesson every Healer learned. A small spade and hand-held shovel were pulled from the basket and she set to work at the grassy area in the shade. There were a few more plants she needed and they did well in this sort of a setting. So focused was she on her tasks, that Esleren would not have noticed anyone entering the vicinity.

[Bookworm]

Most of the Weyr was just waking up, but S'lin had been up and about for nearly an hour already. A weyrling had to be ready to rise at any hour of the morning (or night) to attend to their dragonet. Seleniuth was no exception, and he had roused S'lin just before dawn complaining of an itchy hide. Normally, S'lin would have been upset about getting out of bed so early, but he was willing to anything for Seleniuth, and it was hard to be annoyed with the dragonet for long.

After his oiling, Seleniuth was too energized to go back to sleep, and there was no time for S'lin to take a nap before weyrling lessons started. "Want to explore, Seleniuth?" S'lin asked the Sable, who was stretching his wings and showing off the shiny white marks on his hide. Yes, let's! I want to see the rest of the Weyrbowl, Seleniuth answered.

"All right, then let's go. We can get breakfast when we're done," S'lin said, leading Seleniuth outside. Together they walked through the 'bowl, Seleniuth quietly observing things and occasionally asking a question.

What is that? he asked when they reached the garden. That's the Healer's garden. It's pretty, isn't it? Careful, don't trample the plants. S'lin followed his dragon into the garden, breathing deeply as the scents of all the herbs wafted under his nose. Being here reminded him the Healer Hall, and he felt the familiar pain of regret that he hadn't continued his studies there.

He plucked off a mint leaf and crushed it, releasing the yummy smell. Smells good... Seleniuth snapped the leaf out of his rider's hand, then growled. Tastes yucky.

Maybe to dragons! S'lin laughed. As they walked further into the garden, he noticed someone at work. He was surprised to see another person up this early. He recognized the pretty little Healer, but didn't know her name. "Good morning, Weyrhealer," he said politely, while Seleniuth watched the young woman curiously, his eyes whirling blue-green.

[Lyfling]

His voice startled a gasp out of her and the black curls went flying as her head snapped around. Surprise widened the grey eyes but an easy smile quickly replaced it. "Oh, hello there, young rider." Folding her knees under her, Eslie spread her skirts about her and set her basket to one side. She still had work to do; his presence didn't change that. If he wanted to help, he could, but no more feeding the precious plants to his dragon.. Smirking at the idea of a plant-eating dragon, she smoothed a patch of soil with her fingers. "What brings you to the gardens?"

Weren't they supposed to be in Lessons? That was how things worked, after all, and it seemed odd that such a precious clutch would be allowed to shirk their duties. These dragons were the future of a dying Weyr and needed all the knowledge they could get. Or was he avoiding Lessons? The idea brought some suspicion to mind but she quickly banished it. No doubt these Weyrlings were being watched over just as fiercely as their clutch was. She found it odd, though, that he would have chosen to come to the gardens. There were so many other places to explore- why choose this quiet nook?